


Breaking Free

by Bootstrap_Paradox



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Bisexual Male Character, M/M, Porn With Plot, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2020-01-05 17:23:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18370634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bootstrap_Paradox/pseuds/Bootstrap_Paradox
Summary: William has known the truth of his own sexuality way before his siring, but never dared to act on his desires... that is, not until a perfect opportunity presented itself on a lovely spring night during his stay in Venice."But now, more than a decade later, “the right path” was nothing more than a distant memory. He no longer had any reason to suppress his feelings. He and God were no pals, if the God they had scared him with ever existed. He doubted it. The poor, hell-fearing William was gone, and Spike… Spike wasn’t afraid of sin, for he was sin himself. "





	Breaking Free

**Author's Note:**

> Additional warnings: mentions of rape; several mentions of violence (not graphic, just potentially disturbing); mentions and discussion of homophobia (including internalized homophobia) and its relations to the concepts of sin and hell; mentions of BDSM (otherwise pretty vanilla tbh).

_Venice, April 29 th, 1895_

 

The day was no more.

Sun’s last golden rays licked the polished cobblestone and the glistening water of the canals. The sky flashed one final spark of red and went pale, filled with puffy wisps of rainclouds. The warm wind whispered in the narrow streets and alleyways. Apart from the soft glow of the moon, Venice was now shrouded in shadows. And that was their cue to walk.

Angel smirked at nothing in particular and paused, brushing his fingers through his long, perfect hair. A gesture theatrical and vain enough to fill Spike with a sudden urge to heave. The four of them have just emerged from one of the distant corners of the city, ready to explore its depths for the first time. The sunlight was gone. The weather couldn’t be more pleasant. And the evening, though not as long as they’d wish, was promising to be fruitful.

-Isn’t it stunning, boys? – Darla stepped out into the open street, letting moonlight brush across her face. – So much beauty in this place, so much peace…

-We will put an end to that soon enough. – Angel replied, wrapping his arm around her waist. – The delay is over. The event opens tomorrow. Thousands of people from all over Europe, here to enjoy the art. Plenty of souls to pick from.

-Pictures are lovely. – Drusilla agreed. – But pain tastes better than paint.

They traversed the urban maze for a while, studying the architecture and taking notice of the people. Angel kept slipping into history lectures, which made Spike roll his eyes more than once.

A city built on water. He appreciated the romanticism, but he wasn’t thoroughly impressed with the execution. Having traveled across Europe for a while, the young vampire was growing tired of the same patterns repeated over and over. He was bored, and hungry, and seeking something more exciting than sight-seeing. And he wasn’t going to keep his mouth shut about it.

-…and that’s how the republic ended. – Angel concluded. – Now the consequences they didn’t anticipate…

-Would you quit the babbling, professor? – Spike interrupted. – You’ve been at it for _hours_. My ears are starting to ring. Haven’t we had enough of this place?

-We’ve arrived last night. – He reminded, calm and collected. – And I think we’ve agreed to wait before taking action. Strike once they’ve let down their guard. Allow them to have some fun first.

-I do love the taste of a man drunk on some fine wine. – Darla smiled, but was ignored.

- _We_ are the ones who are supposed to be having fun! – Spike exclaimed. – Look, I get wanting to build anticipation for the big event, but we can start small. I bet there’s some important bloke living in there. – He pointed at a tall building which towered above the canals in the distance. – Let’s go off his daughter. Or son. Or wife. He must have _someone_ we can kill.

Angel regarded him with a look of an exhausted teacher dealing with a difficult student. He suppressed a sigh and attempted to put a hand on Spike’s shoulder. Spike quickly escaped his grasp.

-You have a lot to learn still. – Angel said, a hint of humor in his voice.

-So no murder? – Spike asked, already guessing the response.

Angel shook his head.

-Yeah, well, screw you too.

The next thing Angel, Darla, and Drusilla saw was Spike walking away from them and disappearing into the loops and turns of Venice.

-You haven’t tamed that one yet. – Darla told Drusilla, and the girl’s lips twisted in a cold smile.

-I like him better untamed. – She replied.

And the three of them continued on their quiet journey.

 

Spike wandered the streets absent-mindedly, paying little attention to what was going on around him. He wasn’t sure where he was heading, though it hardly mattered. His muscles were tense, and he was aching for some action. It was time to take matters into his own hands and do what he desired to do – and screw what Angel thought. Angel wasn’t his mother.

His nose caught a faint smell in the air, a touch of expensive perfume mixed with warm human skin. He was about to make a turn into the nearby street, but something made him hesitate. He turned around. The canal was close, and the reflected moonlight was accenting every detail of the scene. He heard noises, voices speaking in abrupt Italian phrases. A ship was being unloaded at the dock. A bunch of young men dragged heavy crates and sacks along the canal. Spike paused, leaned against the wall and watched.

He took a deep breath in, savoring the silky-smooth air – a useless habit he never really kicked. His gaze was drawn to one worker in particular. A young man, almost a boy, dressed in a white shirt that lacked both sleeves and seemed almost transparent, revealing a slim, well-defined figure. He had short dark hair, and delicate, almost angelic features. Spike followed him with his eyes as the man helped move a particularly bulky crate. Alessandro, someone has called him.

Spike didn’t bother hiding in plain sight. Instead, he circled the street from the other end, climbed one of the buildings and picked a spot on its roof. There, perched on the rough tiling, he could observe for as long as he wanted – unnoticed and undisturbed.

It was a pleasure to watch them work: sweating despite the chilly spring air, squabbling over responsibilities and cursing under their breaths. A pitiful existence, filled with nothing but hard work, tears, hopes, regrets, and empty stomachs. On most of them, it showed. Their empty gazes and hunched shoulders spoke of the difficult lives these men led. They were all broken and subdued. All but one.

Out of all the workers, Alessandro appeared to be the strongest – or the most ambitious at least – picking the most challenging tasks and launching at them with vigor. His face glistened with sweat, and his movements were confident and full of grace. Spike grinned and bit his lower lip. He felt strange; his cold blood boiled, making his stomach flutter. He couldn’t take his eyes off of him. He had chosen his prey.

*

The next few days dragged like a bad novel, filled with art, wine, decadence, and the occasional premature death. Spike has long since given up on being patient and following Angel’s plan. He had a mission of his own. He stayed away from the scorching Italian sun, sleeping alone in their hideout, then, as the night fell, he would escape without saying a word. Whenever he had an opportunity to feed, he would refuse. He was waiting for something else. A special moment. He didn’t need thousands of rich idiots, so easy to get it was pathetic; he wanted one man only.

Spike followed Alessandro around the city, keeping his distance, watching him from rooftops and shadows. The young man worked till sunset and since before dawn, so he had plenty of opportunities to spy on him. Oh how he loved the suspense. Sprawled across a roof, hidden by the walls of a nearby house, with a clear view into the boy’s bedroom. He had no idea what awaited him. And Spike wanted it that way.

Upon coming back to the hideout, Spike ignored questions and merely snapped at Angel before going to sleep. Drusilla watched the exchange with eyebrows perched. He hadn’t told her anything either, but she knew what he was doing out there every night – and she found it strange.

Her knight wasn’t one for playing the long game. While Angel frequently stalked his victims for days, grooming them and preparing them for the big event, Spike rarely bothered with building the anticipation. Above all, he enjoyed the thrill of the chase and the short-lived horror, the run and the scream and the last gasp of dread before sinking his teeth into someone’s flesh. Even when they didn’t attempt an escape, he would make them. But not this time.

-Changed your style, Spikey? – She teased him one night when he was about to leave once again. – Taking lessons from Angel?

He didn’t reply, a faint smile touching his lips for a split second.

-Or is this special treatment? – She wondered out loud. – Hope you aren’t in love with her.

-Not your damn business. – He retorted, surprising even himself. – I don’t need to explain myself. – He added before escaping the room.

He loved Drusilla. She knew he loved her, knew for a long time. The moment she refused to be his, she had lost the right to keep him as property. He had no obligation to be faithful to her. And right now, that was a very good thing.

 

The sun was still lingering above the horizon, and Spike ignored the mild burning and tingling on his skin as he walked through the city. Alessandro was unloading ships again. This time he had only a couple of other men to help him. Having studied him from afar, Spike returned to his usual spot on top of a nearby house and paused to admire the view. How lucky he was, to witness such beauty. To savor it and appreciate it, and to know he would be the one to take it.

His mind was overwhelmed with hunger, something he didn’t tolerate well. Quite often Spike would launch into a hard fight or abandon whatever Angel has told him to do just for the taste of hot blood in his mouth. He didn’t wait. He took what was his. But not this time, for he suffered a different kind of hunger. One he was thoroughly acquainted with long before his mortal life came to an end.

Alessandro was perfect. His body seemed to have been carved from marble, with every line and detail arranged in a most satisfying manner. His skin was flawless too, and his eyes glowed with warmth and kindness when he smiled at his fellow workers. His features were that of an ancient Roman god. Back in his old life, Spike would have thought this was a creature of the devil, brought to this Earth to corrupt him. He wanted to feed on the young man, sure… but he also wanted to grab him, press him into a wall and kiss him. And do more than that. Much more.

 

William had known about his nature from a young age. He remembered the horror of being thirteen and realizing how he felt towards their local butcher’s boy. How he hoped it was a glitch, a momentary temptation, a test of his faith. And how, despite him praying on his knees every day before sleep, the feelings persisted through his teenage years and into adulthood.

He loved women, sure. He loved their curved figures and soft skin, their precious voices and full lips and shy smiles. But he also couldn’t help but love men. Something inside him must have been broken, for he lusted over his French teacher, and a son of his mother’s friend, and at least half a dozen other men he met at various events and fancy evenings.

He didn’t dare act on it, of course. Didn’t even dare to entertain the possibility. He pushed the desire away, grateful that at least he had the option to stay on the right path.

But now, more than a decade later, “the right path” was nothing more than a distant memory. He no longer had any reason to suppress his feelings. He and God were no pals, if the God they had scared him with ever existed. He doubted it. The poor, hell-fearing William was gone, and Spike… Spike wasn’t afraid of sin, for he was sin himself.

 

Vampires taking their victims before draining them was no rare occurrence. Angel’s stalking of the dear young girls he picked would often end in rape. He took particular pleasure in telling his prey that he would let them go in exchange for forfeiting their innocence. He never kept his promise, of course. But it made it easier.

Spike considered the tactic, but has decided he wouldn’t fancy the kicking and screaming. Not that he minded the heat of struggle otherwise, it’s just he much preferred a willing surrender. Nothing was more attractive than some pretty girl finding herself pulled to him, drawn into his embrace against her common sense, thirsting for him – the killer, the monster, the source of her imminent death. And such a sweet death it always was.

Though, he admitted to himself, it was also incredibly arousing to hear someone cry and whimper in pain, yet beg for more… and not only inflict torture, but endure it himself. Pain had a habit of making his sensations deeper, stronger, more acute. It was another thing he used to be ashamed of but embraced after his rebirth. For a vampire, suffering and death were as natural as sunlight for a mortal.

He didn’t know whether Alessandro shared his particular predisposition. It was unlikely, but not impossible. Judging by the things he had seen in the last few days, Venice was a good place for rule-breakers, deviants, and outcasts. Here people minded their own business and kept their noses away from the personal lives of others. After some consideration, Spike made his decision. He would try to seduce the young man, even if solely for the practice, before finally squashing his obsession and drinking him dry.

 

The sky grew dark, and the air turned dense with fog in preparation for an arriving thunderstorm. Alessandro collected his payment – a few coins that he tossed into a pocket of his tattered trousers – and headed for the street that, as Spike already knew, lead to his home. He smirked, licking his lips in anticipation. Having spared the dreamy canal one last longing gaze, Spike left his rooftop spot and headed into the city depths.

The young man’s tiny apartment resided in the jungle of Venice’s poorest neighborhood, which lacked the picturesque views of its wealthier counterparts. The cobblestone was permanently drowned in a thin layer of water, and the buildings existed in a state of paused decay. Chunks and pieces of brick and wood crumbled and fell from the walls, littering the narrow streets. Not a nice place to inhabit. No wonder Alessandro spent so much time working by the canals.

They were approaching the arch that lead into his inner courtyard, and Spike was preparing to launch into action. He didn’t want the young man to get inside his apartment, but he didn’t want witnesses either. The short tunnel leading to the arch seemed like an ideal spot for an ambush. He paused, letting Alessandro get ahead of him, then rehearsed his lines in his head. It needed to be spectacular.

Alas, mere seconds before he entered the stage, a stranger appeared in the alley, as if from nowhere. Spike silently moved his lips in a curse. He pressed himself into the wall, hoping that his prey won’t turn around or notice him – and he didn’t. Alessandro paid no attention to the stranger, walking briskly to his door and disappearing behind it a moment later. Spike cursed again, now out loud. He didn’t account for sudden distractions.

He did discover something curious upon approaching the apartment’s entrance. Alessandro left the door unlocked. Was it a coincidence, a thoughtless mistake? The door wasn’t just unlocked, it was opened slightly. That didn’t help him, of course, as he still needed an invitation… but it did make him frown. Something was telling Spike that his arrival wouldn’t be a surprise for the young man.

He left the alleyway, made a few turns around the blocks and climbed to the roof of a building that stood almost exactly opposite his target. He had used this spot for days to watch the young man sleep, and he was sure he could make a leap from one rooftop to the other. He wasn’t wrong. One swift jump and he was right opposite the bedroom window, with a clear view into the boy’s home.

He waited a few moments and soon sensed movement nearby. Alessandro was about to enter the room. He considered his options quickly, whether to hide or let the young man see him. His common sense was telling him one thing and his instincts another. And, as was his custom, he had chosen to ignore common sense altogether. Instead of moving away from the window, Spike inched even closer, making sure that he wouldn’t stay unnoticed.

The bedroom door creaked open, and Alessandro walked in. As soon as he stepped over the threshold, his eyes were drawn to the dark figure visible through the murky window. Despite not needing to breathe in the first place, Spike couldn’t help but hold his breath. The young man paused, making eye contact with the stranger. Then, with a honey-sweet smile on his face, he approached the window and clicked it open.

A corner of Spike’s mouth went up in a sly, satisfied grin. This he did not expect. Did the young man realize what he was doing? Did he know that Spike was a vampire? He suspected not, but even then… to welcome someone who has been watching you from outside your second story window was one peculiar choice of actions.

-Sitting on roof. – Alessandro said, and Spike was surprised once again to hear English. – Must be uncomfortable. Please, come in.

And now he had happily given him an invite? This was beyond intriguing. Spike wondered whether this was a lamb walking willingly into slaughter, or someone akin to him – a thrill-seeking danger junky. He guessed the latter, and didn’t say anything before stepping inside.

Alessandro’s apartment was bleak and scarce, with a low ceiling, blank walls, and a scratched wooden floor. Apart from a rickety table in the corner and a tall cabinet next to the window, the room was rather bare.

There was a bed, of course. Wide, and empty, and unmade – as if inviting for a lie-down. The kerosene lamp was not on, and in the gentle light of the moon the young man looked even more lovely than he did by the docks. That loveliness alone more than made up for the dull setting.

-You speak English then? – Spike asked, one hand in his pocket.

-I speak several languages. – Alessandro replied. – English, French, Latin… I buy books.

He pointed at a stack of volumes that rested next to his bed.

-And you know _I_ speak English. – Spike continued.

The young man nodded, flashing him a cheeky smile.

-Heard you talk to your friends. – He explained. – You not the only one who did… research.

Spike’s eyebrows went up his forehead. This was getting more interesting by the minute. He was trying hard to stay nonchalant, something he didn’t have to work on for quite some time, and his mind was buzzing, eager to crack the riddle that was this angelic creature.

-I see you following me. – Alessandro said. – Watch me work. Watch me sleep. I’m, - he paused, searching for the right word, - flattered.

-Flattered? – Spike chuckled. – Oh, dearest thing… do you even know _what_ you’re flattered by?

A few seconds of silence passed, and Spike could see – and smell – the wonderful, delicious fear. Alessandro was hiding it well, but to him, it was clear as day. How precious! The boy had no idea what he had invited into his home.

-Touch me. – Spike ordered, taking a step closer.

Alessandro obeyed. He raised his hand and placed his open palm on Spike’s neck, all while looking him in the eyes. Spike grinned. In the cool night of early May, his skin was as cold as the water of the canals. He didn’t have a pulse either.

The young man jerked his hand away and staggered backward, swallowing hard. Before he had a chance to say anything, Spike winked and flashed him a view of his true nature. Just a split second, enough for the boy to see the face of the animal, to know it was there. Waiting.

-How old are you? – Spike questioned in a calm, icy tone.

-Nineteen. – Alessandro’s face went slightly pale. – Twenty in June. – He chewed on his lip, thinking. – Will you kill me?

In reply, Spike covered the distance between them in one step and put a hand on the boy’s cheek. He brushed the side of his face with his fingers, tracing the delicate lines. Alessandro didn’t pull away.

-It would be a shame to destroy such beauty. – Spike said, his fingers lingering on the young man’s cheekbone. – I won’t kill you. Quite the opposite – I’ll make you immortal, like me. But not _before_.

-Before what? – Alessandro asked, then smiled, as a realization dawned on him. He grasped Spike’s hand and removed it from his face. – I was right then. – He said. – About you. About why you follow me.

He played with Spike’s cold fingers before letting go of his hand.

-Why don't you run? – Spike pondered.

-You will just chase me then, won’t you?

-You might outrun me.

-I might not.

They paused, staring at each other, waiting for the other to make a move.

-Last chance, boy. – Spike told him, tensing his jaw. – You either leave now or never.          

In response, Alessandro smirked, slipped his fingers under the collar of his shirt, then pulled his cross from around his neck. He showed it to Spike before extending his arm to the side and dropping the cross to the ground. The young man has made his choice. Spike gave him a slight nod, then put his right palm behind the boy’s head and pulled him in for a kiss.

 

Spike remembered the first few days after his siring better than his entire mortal life. The strength, the unyielding energy, the passion… it was nirvana. To run fast and bite hard and want constantly and without refuge – he felt more alive than he ever did before his funeral. And the best of it was freedom. The liberty to do what he pleased, to ignore traditions, religions, and customs, to act and think and speak without the shame imposed on him by others. It was the ultimate rebellion, and it felt _so right_.

For years, he thought that he had divorced every last thread of humanity the day he sunk his teeth in someone’s jugular for the very first time. Surely none of it mattered now. A demon was living inside him, quite literally – and threats of public shame or the final judgment seized to sound credulous. He was free… or so he believed. Because now, as he was holding this handsome young man and covering his neck in kisses, all he could focus on was the exposed window behind his back.

Alessandro was playing the part of his night fever fantasy oh so well. His skin was warm and smooth, it had that wonderful, hearty, delicious smell that dead bodies lacked. When Spike traced his collarbone with his tongue, the young man gave out a soft, hardly audible moan – and that alone was enough to ignite his arousal. Sweet fifteen-year-old William has imagined this countless times, yet the real thing still managed to be better, tenfold.

They reprised the kissing for a few more moments. Alessandro’s hands have found their way under Spike’s clothes, and were now caressing his back. As if in retaliation, Spike let his fingers into the boy’s hair, ruffling and pulling on the silky strands. Their tongues were intertwined, and their bodies were close enough for Spike to hear Alessandro’s heart beating rapidly in his chest. He smiled through the kiss. So far, making love to a man wasn’t very different from making love to a woman.

After one more brief kiss, Spike paused, left a mild bite on the young man’s lower lip and concluded that it was time to start disposing of the clothes. With no hesitation, Spike seized the thin fabric of Alessandro’s shirt and pulled it sideways, making the buttons rip. Alessandro laughed and eagerly broke free of the shirt. He then demanded the same of Spike, getting rid of all the layers in one swift motion.

Spike studied his naked torso, following every perfect line with his eyes, then took a knee to kiss the young man’s stomach. His hands traveled over Alessandro’s body as he moved up to his chest. One brush of his palm against the young man’s crotch, and he knew that he too was ready. There was no point in holding back. As he continued the taste of his skin, paying particular attention to his neck, chest, and nipples, Spike reached for the trousers – Alessandro’s first, then his own.

They were now almost completely naked, and Spike was still unnerved by the window behind him. In between paying attention to every second of the present moment and trying desperately to conceal the fact that he had never been with a man before, he wasn’t doing enough to keep control.

Alessandro must have felt it, and took over the lead, pushing Spike towards the bed. He staggered backward, with Alessandro now on top of him, his bare back pressed into the cold sheets. They were now out of sight of the neighbors. Immediately, he felt relieved.

Alessandro grinned, happy to have the vampire in his control. He traced a finger across Spike’s chest and caught his palm when Spike tried to regain the lead. He placed his other hand under the seam of Spike’s underwear and pulled, making sure to drag the fabric across his erection. Then, keeping a hand on his hip to fix him in place, Alessandro leaned forward.

He started with kissing the outer part of Spike’s thigh, and moving up, a kiss every few centimeters. Spike has since stopped struggling, deciding to let the young man have a go. Already he was giddy with desire, aching to touch himself… but Alessandro wasn’t going to give him the quick satisfaction. He lingered, going up for a while to caress his stomach and buttocks. Just as Spike was about to end the wait, Alessandro brought the sweet torture to a close.

Spike suppressed a gasp when Alessandro’s lips touched the tip of his dick. The sensation was so mild, but it was long overdue. He crumbled the bed sheets, pushing his body up and above the bed. It was a pure, perfect moment of heaven… worth a promise of permanent hell. Soon the young man was at work – licking his entire length first, then enveloping the head of his dick with his lips. Spike inhaled sharply and closed his eyes.

Alessandro was ridiculously effective. He was taking in his whole length, going from sucking to circling the head with his tongue and back to sucking again. While his mouth was occupied, his fingers worked too, caressing Spike’s balls, thighs, and buttocks.

Spike squirmed and twisted in the bed, his body moving as if of its own accord, breathing heavily – another useless reflex taking over his conscious mind. Soon he felt like he was about to come. So, despite his sensations screaming against it, he put his hand on the young man’s shoulder, making him stop.

-You’re very… enthusiastic. – Spike whispered. – Slow down.

-Of course. – Alessandro smiled, using the break to get rid of his own underwear. – You want to, - he paused, searching for the right word, - _take_ me.

Before Spike had a chance to comment on that, Alessandro was hanging over the bed, rummaging under it in search of something. It gave the most beautiful view of the young man’s ass. Spike smirked, waiting for him to emerge. He had a pretty good idea of what was about to transpire. No experience, maybe… but definitely a good idea.

Finally, Alessandro has found what he was looking for – an almost empty bottle of what appeared to be olive oil. ‘Who keeps olive oil under their bed?’, Spike thought, before realizing what it was for. The realization brought a powerful jolt of pleasure. Back in school, falling asleep during history lessons, he wondered what it was like for the ancient Greeks. Now he was about to find out.

Alessandro popped the bottle open and coated his fingers in the yellow liquid. He looked Spike in the eyes, then shifted positions, opening up his legs to let him see. He circled one finger around his opening, taking his sweet time. He slid in one finger while stroking himself slightly with the other hand. Soon a second finger followed, then a third one. The young man moaned and gasped softly as he stretched himself. Spike bit the inside of his cheek. What a wonderful sight that was, to see this angelic creature prepare himself for his entrance.

-What are you waiting for? – Alessandro asked, and removed his fingers one by one. – I’m yours. All yours.

Spike paused. Everything in him was screaming to launch forwards and take the man right there and then… but something else, something old and nasty, was holding him back somehow. Alessandro smiled with a corner of his mouth.

-Fine. I’ll show you. Watch and learn.

Such insolence! Spike smirked as the young man moved towards him, pressing him into the wall. He added a splash of oil on Spike’s dick, then lowered himself onto it. Once again, the vampire couldn’t help but close his eyes. The sensation was… different. Hotter, tighter, more intense. He held back a moan as the young man began to slide up and down, faster and faster.

Spike kept his hands on Alessandro’s hips and directed his motions. Alessandro’s face was pressed into Spike’s chest, and his dick was rubbing against the vampire’s stomach. Together, they danced to the music of their own rushed breaths.

Spike wasn’t sure how long it took. He had lost the sense of time completely, dissolving into the sweet, flaming pleasure. He couldn’t feel the moonlight on his closed eyelids, or the cold scratched wall against his back, or the pain of Alessandro’s nails piercing into his skin. All he could focus on was the center of ecstasy that was growing and brewing in his body, building up to a point where it couldn’t possibly go higher, then somehow breaking through that ceiling and raising into the sky.

He barely remembered what happened next. He knew Alessandro came first, as he sensed the hot liquid hitting his stomach and heard the man let out one final deep sigh. Then he felt Alessandro’s muscles tense against his dick, and that took him over the threshold at last. The few seconds of the orgasm stretched into infinity. It was better than poetry. Better than the first drop of blood on his tongue. Better than being alive.

After breaking apart, they laid in silence side by side, trying to catch their breaths and regain their sanity. Spike glanced sideways and saw a dreamy smile on the young man’s face. Perfect through and through, he thought. It would be such a treat to sire him and take him with them, like Drusilla once took him… but would he do it?

Alessandro must have been wondering that too. He turned to his side and looked at Spike, a sudden tinge of fear in his gaze.

-Will you do it now? – He asked, his voice devoid of intonation.

Spike chuckled, and leaned forward to kiss the young man’s neck.

-I should. – He replied. – I promised to, after all. – He added, grabbing his shoulders.

Alessandro’s eyes flickered closed, and a scared expression came upon his face. Spike sighed. This boy was not his usual victim. He has given him something special this night, something he desired for so many years. He had to give him a choice.

-Do you want to be a vampire? – Spike questioned, and Alessandro opened his eyes.

-I don’t know. – He muttered. – Do you like being a vampire?

Spike paused. If anyone were to ask him that question a few years ago, he wouldn’t hesitate a second before answering ‘yes’. But now, after fighting fiends and demons that were just a bit too strong for him, being subjected to unimaginable torture and spending a terrifying holiday in one of the hell dimensions, he was no longer so sure.

-It has its benefits. – He responded eventually. – But some downsides too. You lose your soul for one.

-My soul is already lost. – Alessandro chuckled. – In that, we are the same.

-I wouldn’t bet on it, love. – Spike said. – I eat people. You just like other men. Not quite on the same level, if you ask me.

-For whoever keeps the whole law but fails in one point has become guilty of all of it. – Alessandro read.

-Oh don’t do the Bible-quoting bullshit on me. – He protested. – I’ve seen _things_ , boy, that make the old God seem rather puny. Besides, even if he does exist and is all-powerful… do you really think he cares who you fuck?

Alessandro shrugged, but didn’t say anything. He was still waiting for Spike to do something.

-Look, - Spike sighed, - I don’t usually do this, but if you’ll be a good boy and keep your mouth shut, I’ll let you go. Just this one time. As a special pardon.

At once, Alessandro seemed to relax, his eyes glowing with energy once again.

-You can’t ever see me again. – Spike added. – And if I find you anywhere near my, uh, friends, I’ll take that word right back.

-Don’t worry. – Alessandro said, smiling. – I won’t tell your vampire girlfriend that you like mortals.

-She’s not my girlfriend. – Spike said and got up from the bed.

-Her loss. – Was Alessandro’s reply.

And it made Spike feel even better than he already did.

 

They didn’t say goodbye before parting ways. Spike was fully dressed again and ready to leave by the same means he used to come in, when Alessandro waved at him to pause.

-I will work the docks for many more nights. – He said. – I know I can’t see you, but if you’d like to see me… I’ll be there.

-Sure. – Spike smiled with a corner of his mouth. – I’ll consider that.

Outside, the moon was still shining bright, and the streets were or so discouragingly empty. He had to wander around for quite some time before finding a woman who went outside to get wood for the fireplace. He didn’t bother with a chase. After drinking her dry, Spike dropped her body in a dark corner, wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and headed for their hideout.

-Out all night again, Spikey? – Drusilla purred, seeing him rush across the hall and into his room.

-Not quite all night. – He muttered, then added in a louder voice. – Don’t wanna talk about it.

She pouted, upset he wasn’t paying attention to her, but he ignored her. It was time for Drusilla to recognize that he wouldn’t wait around for her forever, like a loyal puppy. From this moment on, he was going to be true to his nature in every aspect. Including love.

That thought kept him happy through the rest of their stay in Venice. Once the massacre started, at last, he made sure to avoid the docks or the entire neighborhood around Alessandro’s house. He wondered if the young man thought about him, maybe dreamed about him even.

On the last night of their stay, he came to the canal one more time. He watched him work from the rooftop, and, just as he was leaving the spot, he caught one shining look from Alessandro, one final joining of their eyes. And that look spoke a thousand words.

 

Years went by, and the lines of Alessandro’s face grew hazy in his memory. He even forgot the taste of his lips, and the scent of his hair and skin. What he never forgot, however, was the feeling he had while walking the streets of Venice on that night. The feeling of victory, letting go of his past and becoming himself. It was the moment he gained that final missing piece of confidence.

The memories might have faded a little, but the feeling… the feeling never, ever left.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading till the end! This is my first (published) attempt at writing explicit fanfic, so I'd love to hear your thoughts and opinions - both positive and negative (be constructive though, I'm sensitive lmao). And let me know if you wanna see/read more stuff featuring my favorite bisexual icon, William the Bloody. I have a lot of ideas...


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